


Lisbon, 1755

by Adzeisval



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bit of History, Earthquakes, Gen, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Temporary Character Death, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adzeisval/pseuds/Adzeisval
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale find themselves in Lisbon, Portugal and as an Earthquake shakes the city apart Crowley is trapped in the rubble and in desperate need of Aziraphale's help.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115
Collections: My faves - Good Omens Whump





	Lisbon, 1755

October 30, 1755: Lisbon, Portugal

Crowley made his way down the street keeping an eye out, gazing at the people around him and wondering what was going to happen to them. Hell had sent him here, to Lisbon, for reasons that they hadn’t elaborated on. Something was going to happen, most likely something bad and he was probably going to have to help it along. 

What made him most certain about the incoming disaster was another powerful being in the area. Aziraphale was here somewhere, and to take his mind off what was coming Crowley made it his mission to explore the city and find the angel. Crowley hadn’t been in the area since the Spanish Inquisition. He shivered and pushed that out of his mind. Or tried to. 

Lisbon was a pretty city with nice warm breezes even in October and the sunshine was actually quite nice. The main problem he was going to have he realized was the absolute saturation of holiness in the area. Churches and religious relics everywhere he could feel the blessings and consecrated ground and all but smell the ridiculous amount of holy water in the area. As he walked he passed monks of several different orders and almost as many nuns.

And back to the Inquisition, they were still very much active and in the area. Crowley was not in the mood to deal with them, or to be exorcised or tortured. He pushed his glasses more firmly on his nose. 

He was making his way toward an area called Rossio Square, an open place where street vendors were likely selling food, if he was going to accidentally run into Aziraphale it would be where there was food. Crowley rounded the corner and ran smack into two men. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Crowley blinked, taking a step back from the two sailors.“Sorry mates,” Crowley said, moving to go around them.

“We’re not done here,” one of the men said. 

“We are,” Crowley said and kept walking. One of the men grabbed him and shoved him roughly to the ground. Crowley was halfway through cursing the men when an older woman’s voice cut through and started yelling in Portugese and the men left. Crowley took a hand that was reaching down to help him and he stood and looked at his rescuers. 

He almost laughed. 

It was a group of four nuns, the older was still yelling at the men while the three younger novices looked at Crowley.

“Thank you, uh, obrigado,” he said and smiled at the young women. Two of them gasped and stepped back. Crowley realized then that his glasses had been knocked off. 

“Ngk, oh.” 

Good, great he was going to be dealing with the Inquisition for sure now. The nun who hadn’t backed off held out his glasses. 

“They don’t appear to be broken sir,” she said in perfect English. Crowley took them trying not to look at her. 

“Thank you,” he said. The older nun called the others away and the English girl smiled one more time at Crowley. He sighed. Aziraphale. He was trying to find Aziraphale. 

Crowley could smell food as he neared the square and began to look more closely for Aziraphale. Crowley saw a flash of white near a food vendor; an Englishman dressed all in white with a white three cornered hat that couldn’t quite contain the fluffy curls beneath.

Aziraphale. Good.

The angel handed a coin over receiving a bag of what smelled like roasted chestnuts as Crowley crept nearer. Crowley felt a pleasant feeling settle in his chest followed by a slight annoyance at the first feeling as Aziraphale wiggled and popped a chestnut in his mouth. 

Crowley approached reaching out and snatching a chestnut from the bag. Aziraphale turned with a frown on his face that melted when he recognized the thief. 

“Crowley! Oh you wily serpent,” Aziraphale pulled the bag away as Crowley went in for another nut. 

“Hello Angel.” 

“Fancy seeing you here. Business I assume?”

“Yup, you?” Crowley asked even though he knew the answer. If Crowley was there for some upcoming event so was Aziraphale. Crowley looked around circling around Aziraphale once as the angel started to walk and Crowley followed. 

“Yes. I’ve been here almost a year now,” Aziraphale said. 

“I think something is about to happen here Angel,” Crowley prompted. 

“Rather.” 

“Do you know what? Hell just wants me here. Says I’ll know what to do,” Crowley said. 

“I’m just supposed to make sure the King is not in the city as of All Saints Day. And encourage people to help and help myself a little.”

“So something bad is going to happen in the city,” Crowley said. 

“I suppose,” Aziraphale said with a sigh and a twitch of his fingers around the bag of chestnuts, “Oh it’s such a beautiful city.” 

“Think it’ll be fire?” Crowley asked. 

“I hope not, but...it is always a possibility. I still can’t get London burning out of my mind. It’s been almost a hundred years but...oh it was horrible wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Hope it’s not fire. But would make sense. Hell fire in a pious city. Hope that’s not what they want me to do,” Crowley said looking around. 

“Anyone else here from your side?”

“What? Oh no. No I uh...Inquisition is still in the area,” Crowley said. 

“Ah, yes. Not your favorite people are they dear.” 

Crowley snorted and laughed, “Right you are Angel.” 

“So where are you staying?” 

“Not sure, but I guess I’ll be somewhere in the city on All Saint’s Day so I can at least pretend to do something,” Crowley said. 

“I’m staying with the British Ambassador. Might spend some time with one of the King’s Secretaries, Carvalho, quite the ambitious chap he might do good in the aftermath of what’s coming,” Aziraphale said. 

“But?”

“I fear he might be a bit too ambitious. Power might get to his head,” Aziraphale said. 

“Happens a lot,” Crowley agreed. 

“I do rather hope it doesn’t happen. I met him in London actually he was buying books,” Aziraphale said. He stopped walking and Crowley realized that they had made their way to the Tagus River, to a spot where they could watch the activity there and with enough people around to not be noticed. 

“They have quite the library here don’t they?”

“Oh yes! Wonderful library. Oh I hate to think of all those books being destroyed if it happens to be fires,” Aziraphale said wringing his hands, “I have been thinking that once I get back to London I should open a bookshop. Maybe I could keep more books safe.” 

“That would suit you,” Crowley said, though the thought of Aziraphale actually selling a book made him laugh. 

“Oh and the opera house,” Aziraphale said with a pout, “But those can be rebuilt after all. I fear a lot of souls are going to be leaving from this spot.” 

“Yes,” Crowley said with a sigh. Neither of them liked to watch mass amounts of people die, especially when there wasn’t much they could do about it. 

“Be careful Angel,” Crowley said. 

“You too Crowley. Please. There are a lot of blessed items in this city, a lot of churches, a lot of...holy water,” Aziraphale said. 

“I know, I can smell it,” Crowley said, “I will be careful. Already had a run in with some Nuns.” Aziraphale looked scandalized and Crowley couldn’t help but laugh. He told Aziraphale what happened and for quite a while they skirted the topic of what was going to happen. 

And for a while Crowley forgot about the impending disaster he was sure was coming, of the blessed items that could hurt him all over the city, and the Inquisition that still sent shivers down his spine, and enjoyed his time with Aziraphale. 

They walked up and down streets with Aziraphale pointing out buildings and talking about several pastries he was fond of and asked Crowley what had been going on in London.

As soon as he and Aziraphale parted ways Crowley found a place to stay, a hovel of an inn at the edge of the poor side of town. There was a group of men gambling and a woman who was trying to sell her body and Crowley felt he would be safe enough there. No one was going to look twice at him and it was unlikely the Inquisition would bother. 

He warded the room against intrusion anyway and used a miracle to clean the bed before he plopped down on it. Crowley thought he might as well sleep he wasn’t up to making any mischief that night and it probably wouldn’t make a difference if something bigger was coming the day after tomorrow. 

October 31, 1755

Morning found Crowley more anxious than he was the night before. He pondered what he was going to do with the day. He could try to find Aziraphale again but he was probably busy and the closer it got to whatever was coming the more likely those upstairs and down would be watching. So Crowley wandered around the city. He went down to the river. He explored the different merchants and he found where the city kept it’s money. He saw palaces and noble houses and hovels and shacks.The city was an absolute labyrinth and it was easy to get lost and find oneself down a stinky refuge filled alley with no escape. 

The city was busy, people were coming in from the outlying areas for All Saint’s Day the next day, churches would be packed full of the faithful of the region.   
.   
Crowley found himself in the poorer areas of town where the housing was in shambles and scrawny children ran about. Despite their tattered clothes and thin frames they played and laughed and carried on. 

Humans had such a wonderful abundance of perseverance and capacity for joy despite being in horrible places. Especially the children. 

Crowley sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. A great number of people were going to die tomorrow. A great number of children. He continued his meandering as the day grew warmer. He smelled something good and walked toward it. There was a line of people outside a small stone building. A soup kitchen of some sort.

He heard a couple of gasps and quick speaking in Portuguese and Crowley wasn’t surprised to see a group of nuns. And on inspection it was the same group he had found the day before. Two young women were crossing themselves as they whispered and pointed to Crowley. He was debating whether or not he should scare them or maybe transform into a snake and jump at them. 

“Don’t mind them,” a voice said from behind him and Crowley jumped, spinning around to see the young English nun who was stifling a giggle.

“Ngk, I am odd looking I guess.” 

“They’re just worried. That you’re a bad omen,” the nun said. 

“Ah. Well. I just might be,” Crowley said pushing his glasses up. 

“I don’t think you are. Don’t let them bother you. People sometimes are scared of those who are different. Can I ask you your name sir?”

“Crowley.” 

“I’m Kitty. Are you hungry? Do you need help?”

“Oh no. No. I’m just...waiting for a friend to arrive. Don’t sit still well,” Crowley said. 

“You can stay here if you’d…” 

There was a loud cry from a low stone wall where several children had been eating. One of the young boys had fallen off the wall and was now sobbing and holding his arm. 

“Oh…” 

Crowley strolled to the boy plopping on the ground and pulling the child into his arms. The boy was about five maybe six and grabbed at Crowley with one arm. The other was broken. Crowley looked up quickly and figured he could get away with a small healing. Once the arm was dealt with Crowley made sure the boy hadn’t hurt himself further and was satisfied that he was alright.

“Is he alright?” Kitty asked, “Poor dear.” 

“Just bruised and scared it seems,” Crowley said. The boy was calming down and a few moments later wiggled out of Crowley’s arms and went with his friends. 

“You calmed him down quickly,” Kitty said. 

“Lots of siblings,” Crowley said. 

“Thank you,” Kitty said. Crowley stood and looked at the other nuns looking at him. Hopefully he wasn’t drawing too much attention to himself. 

“Of course, I don’t like seeing kids get hurt,” Crowley said, “I uh I should get going.” 

“Farewell Crowley, perhaps I’ll see you again,” Kitty said. 

Crowley nodded smiling as he left. He thought he had done the miracle quickly enough that no one noticed. And he supposed if they thought anything they would think he was an angel. 

Angel. 

Crowley made his way back to where he had met Aziraphale the day before hoping he would run into the angel again. It would do a good job helping keep his mind off things and maybe Aziraphale had gotten more news about what was coming. 

Crowley must have paced his way around the area for over an hour before he decided to give up. Aziraphale must have had other business elsewhere. He decided in the end to take a few coins and fix them to the pavement and sit across the way and drink wine and watch people get mad when they couldn’t pick up the coins. No matter how many centuries passed humans were always the same and it was fun to watch them fall for the trick.

He got pleasantly drunk and weaved his way back to his lovely little bed so he could sleep it off and though he knew in the back of his mind what tomorrow was it wasn’t breaking through the haze and it was nice. He wasn’t going to sober up. No. Definitely not. He would worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. 

November 1, 1775

Crowley woke to the sound of bells ringing throughout the city calling people to the churches. Crowley groaned. He’d actually fallen asleep without sobering up and now he was regretting it. He supposed he could miracle away the hangover but it might be easier to deal with what was going to happen if he was not fully present.

Aziraphale hadn’t had any idea when exactly the event would happen. Whatever was coming it had a sort of immediate feeling to it not a long lasting thing like a plague or a war or something. But maybe he was just hungover. Or maybe it was anxiety. 

People were out in the streets heading toward Mass at the various churches in the city. He tried to make himself blend in with the crowd and hoped that no one noticed he wasn’t going to church. Large crowds of humans, of any religion, had a tendency to pick out scapegoats and he didn’t want people remembering him if he was in Lisbon for a while after the disaster.

That was a good way to get the Inquisition to notice him.

Crowley was getting impatient for the event to start. And then it did and he wanted it to stop. 

The first few seconds he thought that maybe he was a bit more than a touch drunk from the night before which was the best explanation of why the ground was swaying beneath him. Then it got worse and he realized it was an earthquake. 

Crowley had felt earthquakes many times and had been in pretty bad ones before, but as the shaking intensified he was certain he hadn’t been in one this large before. The world felt like it was tearing itself apart right beneath his feet. Buildings around him were starting to collapse, tumbling dangerously into the street, roofs collapsing in on people. People were screaming and Crowley watched as the roof of a small church collapsed in on itself crushing several people.

Then just as suddenly as it started it stopped. Crowley had a bad feeling that it wasn’t over just yet. He could feel souls leaving all around him. Crowley tried to walk to somewhere safe, people were running toward open squares or down toward the river where it was probably a little more open. That made sense. There were also those that were seeking refuge in churches. 

The shaking started again.

It was hard to walk but Crowley wanted to get somewhere a little less narrow, maybe back to the square where he had found Aziraphale which was where a lot of the people seemed to be going. As Crowley walked he saw knocked over candles and the starts of small fires. So the city would burn, or at least the ruins of it would. So much dust was being thrown into the air it was starting to block the sun and throw the city into darkness. 

The ground stilled again. All around him were the cries from hurt and dying people. People calling out for mercy from the God they thought was causing it. From what Crowley thought it wasn’t a direct action from God, not like the flood, but if God had set everything in motion it was in a way God. He guessed. He didn’t know exactly how that all worked. 

Crowley felt the shaking starting again. There was little chance that any building would be left standing if this kept up. A building collapsed just to the left of him and he barely got out of the way of falling stone. Several children screamed and two women were yelling. Crowley turned toward the voices and his heart leapt in his chest. 

It was the young English nun again. Kitty. Along with another nun and a gaggle of frightened children. Crowley looked around. There was enough destruction going on that he would be able to claim some sort of involvement. He could say he made fires worse and made sure churches fell. 

“Kitty! Kitty, follow me,” Crowley said. He had no idea really where he was going or what he was doing but with so much death around him he could probably risk helping a kind nun and a group of scared children.

Crowley needed something to do. 

Kitty screamed and Crowley saw the building coming down into the street. He pushed Kitty and the others into the building across from the collapsing one hoping to be able to use a miracle to keep them safe until they could run again. 

Crowley felt the burn on his feet and the tingle through his body the instant he stepped into the building. He hesitated and by the time he realized what was going on it was too late. 

Something hit Crowley on the back of the head and he went down. His head was spinning as he collapsed on his side, every inch of skin burning as it contacted the consecrated ground. Everything was burning and spinning and then everything went black.

It didn’t stay black for long. 

Crowley came to expecting to find himself back in hell, waiting in line and filling out paperwork and probably meeting with Lord Beelzebub to get a new corporation. It was annoying but he was used to it. 

But he wasn’t in hell. Not truly at least. 

The shaking had stopped. He was buried beneath rubble but there was some light filtering through the gaps of the collapsed building. 

Pain hit him and Crowley groaned. Consecrated ground. It wasn’t even a proper church he was in...some sort of out building behind a church? Crowley’s head was pounding and spun as he tried to pull himself up. 

“Ahhh, mnnn,” Crowley cried out and panted. He shut his eyes tight and groaned. He didn’t want to look but he had to. His lower body, from his navel down, was crushed under stone. Enough nerves were severed that he couldn’t feel the burning, but where his side and arm touched was burning. The air felt too hot as he breathed. His head was pounding. He hurt and it wasn’t just his body, his corporation, that was in pain. His essence was burning as well. Crowley needed to discorporate. 

“Crowley?”

Kitty knelt before him, hands hovering unsure of what if anything she could do.

“Others?” Crowley managed to croak out. 

“We’re here,” Kitty said, “We’re trapped in a pocket not big enough to stand in. No way out. There are ten of us here; two of us nuns, a monk, five children, and another man. I think he’s with the Inquisition.” 

The stones shifted ominously. Crowley held their little shelter in place and realized he was already dedicating quite a bit of power to do so. But it was strange. His power felt oddly dulled and difficult to reach. 

He shifted trying to alternate the bits of skin touching the ground. 

Kitty sniffled, “I’m sorry.” She took Crowley’s hand and started to pray. Prayer didn’t do much to Crowley on a good day, but the prayer was directed at him and it stung on top of everything else.

“Stop, please, no.” 

Kitty stopped and frowned. She turned Crowley’s hand over and saw the red skin, watching him writhe against the ground. She gasped.

“What...what are you?”

“I...ngk.” 

Kitty crossed herself and prayed for a moment before looking at Crowley, “Are you human?” 

Crowley was thankful that Kitty was whispering. She likely was trying to not scare the children but it also meant the Inquisition man didn’t hear what was going on, “No.” 

“Did the devil make you?” 

“No. The Almighty made me. I...fell when Lucifer did. Mmm a Demon.” 

“Demon…”

“Mmmhmm.” 

Kitty grew silent and started to pray again. Crowley’s head swam and his skin burned and he wanted to discorporate but if he did it would kill the nuns and monk and the children. He should be able to get them all out. He had the power. But his head was swimming and his corporation was dying and the holy ground burned. It burned so much more than he thought it should have and he felt so weak.Crowley let out a strained whimper as he tried to shift a little more off the ground. He could feel the blisters forming on his arm even beneath his coat.

The holy ground was making it hard to breathe; either that or he was bleeding inside. He turned his head to look at his crushed lower body. Yep, he was definitely bleeding. He imagined all the bones from his hips down were crushed and broken. Crowley moved his hand to where his head was throbbing and pulled it away wet with blood. 

Crowley knew he was done for. He had discorporated from far fewer injuries. He could just let go...could slip away…

The ground started to shake and the trapped children cried. Stones shifted above them and Crowley snapped to attention to stop several from falling. 

“Nnn, ugh,” he cried out. Why did using his power hurt so bad? 

Crolwey drifted in and out of focus. Time was passing but he didn’t know how much. Some time later the smell of smoke brought Crowley to the present. He looked at himself half expecting to see smoke and flames coming from his body.

“Fumaça!”

“Fogo!”

Fire. Something close to them was burning. Crowley protected them as best he could, driving the flames and smoke back. He shifted crying out as a blister on his arm burst.

“How is he still alive?” 

A man came into Crowley’s field of vision. Not a monk. The man grabbed Crowley’s arm and Crowley cried out. 

“Demon!” the man proclaimed, “In league with the devil!”

Crowley moaned, “Go away or I’ll damn you to hell.” 

“Can’t do much in here can you? Had the bad luck to walk right into an exorcism chamber didn’t you?” 

“That explains it,” Crowley said. 

“I should send you back to hell,” the man said. At that point Crowle thought it sounded like a rather lovely idea. But if this man killed him he’d probably get the others in there killed as well. The man put his weight on Crowley’s body pressing him harder into the ground.

“Stop!” Kitty cried out, “Please stop!” 

The man let go of Crowley, “He is a demon! An ungodly horrid creature that needs to be destroyed! This is all his fault! It’s his fault that God is taking it out on us!”

“I’m the only one keeping you alive. I die this place collapses or fills with smoke and flame,” Crowley said. 

“Liar. If only I could get to the holy water,” the man said. 

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut very glad that the man didn’t have holy water. He should leave. He should use every last bit of his energy to shore up the little cave as best as he could and discorporate. 

“Look at him, he is defeated,” Kitty said, “He is trapped and dying. Now is the time for mercy even toward such a…wretched creature.” 

“We should all pray for all the saints, maybe even angels to come and take him then,” the man said. 

“Already an angel in the city,” Crowley said.

“Then we shall pray to him,” the man said. 

“You’ll never guess his name,” Crowley said. He hoped it would work. If he could get the man riled up he would endure more pain and pretend to try not to say Aziraphale’s name and when he finally did maybe they would pray and the angel would actually get there and save them and Crowley could leave. 

“You know his name beast? Then you will say it!” The man leaned all his weight on Crowley. 

And Crowley growled, trying to find a line between making the man believe he was hurting him worse than he was and not scaring the children.

“Tell us the angel’s name, and I may show mercy,” the man said. Crowley and the man went back and forth for a time. He knew how to stretch things out, had been taken by the Inquisition before and when he was certain the man would believe him he cried out. 

“Aziraphale! The angel Aziraphale!”

The man cried out in triumph striking Crowley one more time in the head before he moved away. The world spun and the little chamber threatened to collapse as Crowley neared discorporation. He felt a gentle hand on his cheek. 

“Angel?”

“Crowley?” 

He opened his eyes to see that it was Kitty knelt before him, not Aziraphale. 

“Are you dying? Do demons die?”

“This body is,” Crowley said, “My essence will go back to hell.” At least he assumed some of it would make it back. He didn’t know for sure with as much as it hurt with as weak as he felt. He wasn’t sure. Crowley wished that Aziraphale was there. His plan was somewhat working though he could hear the monk, the nun, and the Inquisition man praying to Aziraphale. Hopefully the angel would come, eventually. Crowley wasn’t even sure how long they had been trapped. He rather feared he had been going in and out of consciousness. 

“You keep calling out for ‘angel’,” Kitty told him the next time he was truly awake. 

“My friend. The angel Aziraphale hopefully he can save you,” Crowley mumbled. It wouldn’t be long. He wasn’t going to be able to stay much longer. Of course he had thought that for the past...how long? How long had he been there? He couldn’t stay...couldn’t…

It hurt. It hurt down to his very essence and he was tired and even hell would be better than this. Why was he doing this? 

Children. A kind nun.

Crowley drifted. The ground might have shifted again. His wards held as long as he was here. The humans were praying and the children whimpered. Crowley wasn’t breathing, his heart had stopped, his corporation was all but dead. 

It still hurt though. 

Something shifted then and it seemed like the cavern filled with light. Kitty gasped and Crowley took a breath ready to make one last effort…

Aziraphale. 

It was...it couldn’t be.

But it was. It was Aziraphale. Glowing with holy light. The humans gasped and cried out and backed away from the angel who knelt beside Crowley. 

“Oh Crowley!”

“Angel...can you take it.” 

“Take what?”

Crowley lifted his hand and waved around. Aziraphale must have sensed the effort Crowley was making and suddenly the weight of it was gone. 

“I’m going to rearrange some things everyone stay still,” Aziraphale said. The stones came apart and then came down lining the ruins. Aziraphale even made a little staircase for the humans to get out. The nun, the monk, and the children started to make their way out pausing to bow before Aziraphale and offer praise. Crowley was glad to see them go and could feel the blessing that Aziraphale had put on them. 

The Inquisition man paused at the bottom of the stairs, “I humbly ask to watch you destroy this foul creature.”

“I rather think you should rethink your entire life young man,” Aziraphale said, snapping his fingers. The man looked blank for a few moments before leaving without another word. 

“Crowley?”

“Hmm.” 

“They’re safe my dear.” 

“Good. Thanks angel.” 

Aziraphale touched him gently and Crowley could feel the pleasant sting of the Angel’s power. 

“Oh. Oh dear. Oh Crowley. I’m going to get you off the consecrated ground. I’ll help you dull the pain is that alright?”

“Sure angel.” Crowley trusted Aziraphale and he wanted to stop burning. It would be nice to stop burning, to stop hurting. Aziraphale was there so it was good. Crowley barely registered moving and it took him some time...or so he thought...to register that the burn from the holy ground had stopped. 

The pain was still there but it was starting to dull. He wasn’t healing though, he didn’t think he could. He didn’t think Aziraphale would be able to help either. But it was nice to be out and it was nice to be with Aziraphale. 

“Crowley?” 

“Mmm angel.” 

“You can let go dear.” 

Crowley focused on Aziraphale, the angel had unshed tears glistening in his eyes and Crowley realized how close Aziraphale was holding him. It was nice. He’d like to stay like that forever. But no...he couldn’t...had to go…

“See you angel…”

*****

Aziraphale knew what was going to happen the moment the ground started shaking. If he was there and if Crowley was there it was going to be a bad earthquake and many souls were going to leave the earth. 

Poorly built houses collapsed with the first shaking, but the second and third waves destroyed nearly the whole town. Aziraphale descended upon the city to try to help. Fires started to rage almost instantly so many candles had been lit for All Saint’s Day. Crowley was out there somewhere too. 

Aziraphale had done his duty and gotten the King out of the city, and had spurred survivors to begin helping. He had an allotment of miracles he could use and went about the city to see what he could do. 

People were panicking and hurt and Aziraphale hated it. He didn’t like seeing so much pain. He tried his best to help to use his strength to get people out of where they were trapped. Smoke and heat filled the air. Screams and cries for help. 

Aziraphale couldn’t save them all but he did what he could. 

With his attention on the fire and the buildings collapsing and the continuing tremors he hadn’t even considered the river. The ocean pulled back and roared in coming up the Tagus and taking people and debris back out with it. 

Aziraphale shivered at the amount of souls leaving. 

He did what he could. Time passed but Aziraphale didn’t know how long. He felt a strange pull and looked around. He half expected Gabriel to come down and give him more orders or tell him his job was done. 

But that wasn’t it. 

And it wasn’t Crowley. He had hoped maybe it was Crowley. 

The second time he felt the pull he realized what it was. Someone was praying to him. Which was rather odd because as far as he knew no humans were aware of his name or that he existed. At least no people alive now. 

He followed the prayer.

Aziraphale found himself standing outside of a back building of a church that had collapsed in on itself. There was prayer coming from below prayer specifically to him. And something else. A very faint demonic signature. 

Aziraphale moved the stones as carefully as he could, he couldn’t quite tell where everyone was underneath. He snapped light into existence and heard a round of gasps. There were two nuns crouching in the little cave with a gaggle of small children, a monk, another man and...

“Oh! Oh no. Oh Crowley,” he knelt next to the demon. Crowley was trying to focus. Aziraphale could make out burns and blisters over all of the exposed skin and knew Crowley was burnt beneath his clothes as well. His lower body was crushed. There was a halo of blood around his head. 

He should have discorporated. 

Crowley could discorporate any moment and yet he hung on. What was worse was the weakness Aziraphale could feel in Crowley’s essence. He needed to get Crowley out. 

“Angel...can you take it.” 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what Crowley meant at first but then he felt the demon’s power holding the whole building up around them and repealing the fire and smoke. He took the burden from Crowley. 

Aziraphale rearranged the stones to make it open so it wouldn’t collapse and made a staircase of sorts for the people to get out. The humans made their way out praying and praising him which made Aziraphale blush more than anything. One of the men hung back wanting to watch him kill Crowley. Aziraphale sent him on his way with a new purpose in life. One of the nuns was sticking close by watching what was happening as well but he could sense that she was concerned about Crowley and he let her stay.

Aziraphale turned his attention back to Crowley. Told him the people were safe. He had to get Crowley out, Aziraphale didn’t know if he would discorporate the moment he was moved or if Aziraphale would be able to get him off the holy ground. He concentrated on blocking the pain. He put his hand on the back of Crowley’s neck and blocked the nerves that were sending pain signals to his brain. It would at least block the pain his corporation was feeling. 

Aziraphale’s stomach lurched as he moved the stones off Crowley’s body. He had to swallow the bile down as he picked Crowley up. His legs were broken, bones protruding in several places and it was difficult to carry him. At least the pain block seemed to be working. 

Aziraphale cradled Crowley. He couldn’t heal Crowley and Crowley seemed unable to heal himself. Discorporation was the only option. 

Crowley gave a little moan and Aziraphale tried not to cry. 

“Crowley?”

“Mmm angel.” 

“You can let go dear,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley focused for a moment, “See you angel.” The corporation went limp in Aziraphale’s arms and he felt Crowley’s essence leave. 

“I’ll see you soon dear,” Aziraphale said. Something close crashed to the ground and Aziraphale sighed. He had to get back to work. He stood and found the young nun looking at him. 

“I don’t understand,” she said, “you are an angel and he...he said he was a demon.” 

“Both correct. I’m afraid it's rather complicated.” 

“He...was protecting us,” the nun said. 

“Crowley has a soft spot for children and I suspect you were kind to him,” Aziraphale said, remembering Crowley’s story about the nuns. 

“I...was this God or Satan or…” 

“From what I know these things just happen. I don’t know all of the Great Plan, only my parts in it,” Aziraphale said, “Just remember to be kind and good and helpful.” 

Aziraphale made a motion to bless the young nun but found that she had already been blessed. He didn’t want to confuse the poor dear further by saying she had been blessed by a demon. 

Oh poor Crowley. 

“I’ll help you get somewhere safe,” Aziraphale said. He could see the poor dear was still confused. He didn’t think there was anything else he could say to her to make it better she was going to have to figure things out on her own. He believed she would, and kind souls usually did well no matter what. 

Aziraphale tried to keep busy there was so much to be done so much he could do and he tried desperately not to worry about Crowley and think about how badly he had been hurt. He had been in so much pain. He had to put it out of his mind. Crowley would return, he always did.

May 1, 1758: London

Aziraphale was back in London, had been for the past year and a half. He busied himself by getting back into his plan to open a bookshop so he didn’t obsessively worry about Crowley. 

He was sitting in St James’s Park throwing bits of birdseed at the various birds gathered about and munching on a bag of roasted chestnuts. Suddenly someone plopped down beside him and took one of the chestnuts from the bag. 

“Crowley! Oh it is so good to see you my dear!” he couldn’t help but smile. 

Crowley was smiling, “Good to see you too angel.” 

“I was worried, you were...I could feel your essence waning,” Aziraphale said. 

“Mmm had to rest quite a bit and heal. That was...that really did hurt me pretty badly.” 

“I found out you were in a place where the Inquisition professed to banish demons. It was holy ground and there were a lot of anti demonic sigils in that building.” 

“Just my luck,” Crowley sighed. 

“Well you’ll be happy to know that many of the Inquisition buildings didn’t survive,” Aziraphale said. 

“Angel! Did you have anything to do with that?”

Aziraphale shifted and wrung his hands, “Well, I might have.” Crowley broke into a fit of laughter and it made Aziraphale’s heart swell with happiness. 

“So how is it over there in Lisbon?”

“Recovering, slowly, but I think it’ll come back. I’ve been back here in London for quite some time now. You’ll be happy to know that Kitty is doing well, as are the others you protected,” Aziraphale could go on with detail but he could already see that Crowley was a bit uncomfortable with the praise.

“Good.So what have you been doing angel? Found a spot for your bookshop yet?”

“Well I have an idea of a few places,” Aziraphale said and went about explaining his idea as Crowley listened. They talked back and forth for quite some time. It was good for things to be getting back to normal. It was good to have Crowley back to see him whole and well again. 

It was good to have his friend back.


End file.
